


Guilty Pleasures

by edourado



Series: Hell's Kitchen Chronicles [83]
Category: Daredevil (TV)
Genre: Drabble, F/M, Kastledevil, Oneshot, Polyamory, yay one more!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-04
Updated: 2018-01-04
Packaged: 2019-02-28 08:36:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,226
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13267701
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/edourado/pseuds/edourado
Summary: Karen likes some things she shouldn't





	Guilty Pleasures

**Author's Note:**

> Posted on Tumblr, August, 2017

She likes some stuff that she shouldn’t.

It was never an effort for Karen to get used to the “unconventional” things, the things that made people happy, but conservatives mad.

Proof of that was that she waltzed into this relationship with the grace of a royal, settling easily into it, even if it was new for her.

But, sometimes, she finds herself enjoying things that she maybe is not supposed to enjoy.

She likes it when they get jealous. Even of each other - “why does he get a kiss and I don’t?” -, but mostly of other people.

That Captain America thing was wonderful, both because, well, she got to meet Captain America, and the reactions of both Frank and Matt after the fact.

Karen rolled her eyes, stopped them, cut the long case they were starting to make against him short. “He gave me an interview. That’s it. Stop obsessing over a cup of coffee, please.”

In reality, she had loved hearing Matt question why he had payed for her coffee, why they had coffee together in the first place and Frank muse that he might not be that busy with the Avengers if he has time to spend the afternoon chatting with a journalist. She had liked it. Even if she rolled her eyes and tried her best to control herself so Matt couldn’t read it on her (if he read any excitement, he mistook it, imagining it was for the memory of the hours she spent in the company of Steve Rogers).

She likes it when they’re a little less gentle than what they normally are. When Frank’s fingers press a little too tight on her hip, when Matt puts a hand over her mouth because he knows she is going to cry out when he moves like that, allowing her to bite on the fleshy part of his palm.

She likes when Frank describes her to Matt, she likes when Matt tells Frank about what is going on with the chemistry of her body, she likes when they talk about her as if she wasn‘t lying right there between them, she likes it when it’s obvious, it’s obvious how much they adore her, she likes it.

Loves it when they try to distract her with sex. Loves it when they use their greater strength to keep her from going out here and there. Feels important when they sit together and make up a whole strategy to keep her safe when they know shit is about to go down. Karen feels a surge of pride inside her when they sometimes lose their temper and tell her she’s so “fucking stubborn”, because that means she’s strong, that means she has the power to go against them when she wants to, but it also means they recognize it, respect it, even if they don’t always agree with it.

She makes up for those occasions when it’s just them. The two of them, the three of them. Her and Frank, her and Matt, her and Frank and Matt. When it’s just them, no her, well, she doesn’t really have much control over that, they do their own weird tough love kinda thing, but when it’s her, she loves loves loves every single minute of it.

Like when Matt just walks into her shower, hands on her face, lips on hers, dismissing her “wait, wait, wait!” and his clothes are soaking through, because he likes it when she peels them off him, and Frank is there, brushing his teeth, shaving his beard or trimming his hair on the sink, but he’s watching. She knows it’s less for her than it is for them, but hell if she cares.

When Frank is doing his best to make her scream because Matt is on the roof, or, on the contrary, when he’s on the phone on the other room and Frank doesn’t let her make a sound and she has to bite on pillows and squeeze her eyes shut to keep quiet, because they don’t want to disturb him, but he knows Matt can hear her anyway, he can hear everything as clear as if he was there with them, can even taste it in the air. Again, she doesn’t care.

When she undresses and sees her reflection in the mirror, she knows she should not like those marks so much. The ones they leave on her. Frank seems to not know his own strength sometimes, and Matt can’t see them, but his mouth is always eager to mark, to leave purple spots on her. All she asks is they avoid the places she can’t hide with clothes that easily, but sometimes they slip and she has to apply a ton of makeup on her neck, wear her hair down on a very hot day, wear long sleeves because Frank tied her wrists with his belt. She actually misses those marks when they fade.

If someone were to see them, they would worry, they would think she’s being abused, and, sometimes, she even stops herself from whining, it even hurts a little bit, but it feels so so so good immediately after, the memory of it sends liquid sparks through her bloodstream, the sight of them makes her feel so wanted and loved, she never says anything. Let them mark her.

She doesn’t care because, in the end, that’s just a part of it. In the end, whenever possible, they sleep tangled around her as if they fear someone is going to walk in and take her away. Doesn’t care because she actually pretty much can do as she pleases. They complain very, very little.

She almost feels guilty those rare times she gets home and they’re both there, sleeping, bone tired after doing everything they do outside, breaths heavy and limbs tangled together. She almost feels bad about stepping in between them, wiggling for space, stirring them awake, making them move so she can fit in, and they have to hold her instead of each other.

Doesn’t feel as bad when Matt pulls her back against his chest, kissing the back of her head lovingly, and Frank pulls a leg over his hip, scooting closer until she’s sandwiched between them, pressed tight and his hand is there, roaming, he’s waking up, Matt is waking up, her clothes are gone in a second and Matt’s hand is over her mouth again when she’s moaning loudly to what Frank is doing.

He likes to hear her, though, so that hand moves a little, her teeth press on her own lower lip to keep from shouting, and Matt is instructing Frank because she can’t, and he knows, he reads her as if she has braille instructions on her skin under his fingers, he breathes in her ear, sweet words mixed with erotic ones, her eyes roll and so do her hips. Frank asks Matt what to do, Matt tells him, Frank tells him what he’s seeing, Matt presses, Frank pushes, Matt, Matt, Matt, Frank, Frank, Frank.

God.

One is a killer, unforgiving and problematic. His trigger finger is bound to make her suffer. The other breaks, every night, the laws he swore to defend, defying the justice system he works for. He has lied to her more times that she can count.

Karen likes some things and loves two men she shouldn’t.


End file.
